


Take My Hand (I Promise)

by sunshinexbomb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, hand holding, lots of ot5 feels because apparently i am a sucker for ot5 all the time, really stupidly stupid fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And really, that’s what Liam is, Zayn’s anchor. Keeps him from floating off in his own thoughts and fears and angers. Whenever Zayn needs him, Liam’s there with a gentle touch, a soothing gesture that feels just right.</p>
<p>
  <i>or four times liam holds zayn's hand to comfort him and one time zayn does the same for liam.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Hand (I Promise)

**Author's Note:**

> Meh, this isn't the best thing I've ever written, but I guess it's not terrible? I've had this idea for a while and just wanted to get it down! 
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own! Kudos are nice and comments are nicer :))
> 
> As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own One Direction and all of this is purely just a figment of my imagination. Title is from Simple Plan's "Promise", which after nine years, is still one of my favorite songs.

  
**01.**   
    
The thing is, despite Zayn’s broody exterior and his leather jackets and cigarettes and tattoos, he’s really sort of, kind of, a huge wimp. He doesn’t like heights or open bodies of water or thunderstorms or sleeping in the dark or scary movies and he definitely does not like haunted houses.   
    
Unfortunately for him, Zayn does really like Louis (though he seriously questions why at times) and that’s probably why he finds himself at what’s been dubbed “Britain’s Number One Haunted Attraction”.   
    
Louis’ looking around at all the attractions, a wide grin on his face that looks manic enough to match some of the actors carrying chainsaws and axes and other weapons of murder. He’s been excited about this for weeks, despite Zayn’s constant bitching and moaning that he did not want to go.   
    
“We should try the ‘Frightmare Asylum’ first,” Louis says, bouncing on the balls of his feet and pointing to a dilapidated looking building designed to look like a mental hospital. “It’s supposed to be the least scary so we can work our way up to the good stuff.”   
    
Niall and Harry totally ignore him, too busy giggling profusely while poking and prodding each other and being their usual stupid, sickeningly adorable selves. Liam just nods, knowing it’s better to indulge Louis when he’s all excited like this rather than argue or input his own opinions.   
    
Zayn takes a deep breath, is about to nod too, but there’s a loud, shrill scream from the direction Louis had pointed in and Zayn feels his blood run cold.   
    
“Could we maybe just sit in the food court or something,” Zayn asks, wincing and pulling his leather jacket around him tighter. It’s not doing much to block out the chill October wind but Zayn irrationally hopes that maybe it will protect him against whatever it is eliciting those blood-curdling screams.   
    
Louis turns around quickly, frowning at him. “We didn’t pay thirty-five quid each to sit in the food court. Don’t be such a twat, Zayn.”   
    
Zayn’s retort dies on his tongue as there’s another scream causing him to jump and almost land on Liam’s toes.   
    
“You’re the one being a twat, Lou,” Liam says, rolling his eyes. “I can sit out here with Zayn if you and the lovebirds want to go into the asylum or whatever.”   
Liam brings his arm up and places a comforting hand to the nape of Zayn’s neck. Zayn relaxes significantly, shuffling closer to Liam and easily melting into his warmth. He’s glad the lighting is rather dim because he can feel his cheeks getting hot as Liam moves his arm down around his waist and pulls him closer.   
    
“You will do no such thing,” Louis scoffs, “we’re all going and that’s final. It’s our last year before uni, Zayn. We have to do everything _together_. All or nothing.”   
    
“Can I vote for nothing?” Zayn mumbles under his breath, and Liam laughs softly.   
    
“It’ll be fine, Zayn,” Niall says, giggling as Harry snuffles at his neck, “just remember they’re just actors, yeah? None of it’s real.”   
    
Louis’ already heading in the direction of the queue and Harry and Niall follow, somehow managing to walk even though Harry’s got himself wrapped around Niall from behind. Liam’s still got his arm around Zayn and the two of them move together when Zayn reluctantly decides to follow Louis.   
    
The wait’s a bit long, and Zayn thinks that’s a bit worse than if they could go in and out quickly. There’s too much time for the anticipation to build and swallow Zayn whole.   
    
“Listen, Zayn, you won’t regret this,” Louis says earnestly when him and Liam finally queue up behind him. “And if you really don’t want to do anything else after this, we can go home or whatever, yeah? Just. Try it out, please?”   
    
Zayn licks his lips nervously, because he still really doesn’t want to do this. But Louis’ looking at him with those big blue eyes and he just looks so sincere, like he really will go home if Zayn asks. He loves Louis, he really does, and he knows how much this means to him so Zayn sighs, finally nodding in agreement. Louis cheers in excitement before gathering Zayn in a brief hug.   
    
“I’m actually going to piss myself,” Zayn moans when Louis’ moved far enough ahead that he can’t hear.   
    
Liam giggles. “I’m sure you’re not. Don’t worry, I’ll be here to protect you.”   
    
There’s a brief second that Liam’s arm moves from his waist, but then Zayn feels a hand warm in his and he looks down to see his and Liam’s fingers intertwined. He blushes again, stomach fluttering pleasantly at the sight.   
    
The thing is, Liam’s his best mate - they all are, Niall and Harry and Louis and Liam - but well, it’s quite maybe possible that he wishes that Liam was something more. With Liam it’s different because Liam makes him feel warm and safe and comfortable and thinking about him makes Zayn’s insides feel like jelly. When Liam smiles Zayn can’t help but smile and when he’s sad Zayn feels something inside him breaking and yeah, okay, it’s definitely possible that he might be arse over tits for his best mate.   
    
It feels nice, having Liam’s hand in his, fingers filling the gaps left by Zayn’s own perfectly. It’s even better when Liam’s smiling down at him all fondly, eyes crinkled at the side and cheeks pink from the cold.   
    
“You promise not to let go?” Zayn asks quietly.   
    
“Don’t worry, I’ll never let go,” Liam beams, and Zayn’s heart swells to three times it’s size.   
    
**02.**   
    
Sometimes Zayn thinks that maybe Liam might like him too. Liam has a habit of leaving his arm around Zayn or curling his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Zayn’s neck and Zayn loves it. He loves the attention and the warmth of Liam’s skin against his and knowing that Liam cares about him.   
    
Except, well, they’re a pretty cuddly bunch of lads. It’s not uncommon to find Liam snuggled up with Louis or curling into Niall’ side when Harry’s not there or tugging on Harry’s curls affectionately.   
    
Zayn likes to think that Liam looks at him with a bit more fondness though, that he’s the first choice for cuddles and that sometimes he catches Liam staring at his mouth when he licks his chapped lips.   
    
It may all be in his head, of course, and it wouldn’t be the first time either. Zayn’s no stranger to misreading signs but he hopes he’s right this time because there’s nothing he wants less than to screw up his relationship with Liam.   
    
Zayn’s suspicions about Liam’s feelings aren’t confirmed until Louis’ annual birthday bash that doubles as a holiday party. Everyone’s a little tipsy and Zayn doesn’t remember much from the beginning of the night.   
    
What he does remember though is Louis pushing him and Liam under the mistletoe and the way his mind had gone blank with panic until Liam leaned down and kissed him full on the mouth, lips soft and hesitant. The kiss catches him totally unprepared and Zayn’s brain is sort of short-circuiting so he’s not really kissing back.   
    
It’s no surprise when Liam pulls back, eyes wide and cheeks flamed red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” he stutters out, “that was really stupid of me. I shouldn’t have -”   
    
And that’s when things start clicking in Zayn’s head and he tugs Liam back in, crashing their lips together and kissing with more fervor, licking into Liam’s mouth and across his teeth until Liam’s making these soft whimpering noises.   
    
“Don’t be sorry,” Zayn breathes after they finally part to catcalls and their own heavy breathing, “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”   
    
Sometime in mid-January, a couple days after Zayn’s eighteenth birthday, they’re lying together in Liam’s bedroom, cuddled under the covers in attempt to stay warm. Zayn’s head is pillowed on Liam’s chest and Liam is running his fingers through Zayn’s hair, causing his head to get more and more fuzzy with sleep.   
    
“Zayn?” Liam asks suddenly, breaking their peaceful silence.   
    
“Hmm?” Zayn hums, trying to stay awake and focused.   
    
“We’ve never been on an actual proper date before.”   
    
Zayn hugs Liam’s middle tighter, moves closer by draping his leg across Liam’s. “Sure we have. We’ve been to the movies and to dinner and stuff haven’t we?” he counters, voice heavy with sleep.   
    
“Not since we started dating. Every time we’ve been out, it’s been with Lou and Haz and Niall,” Liam says, scratching at Zayn’s scalp in a way that has him holding back kitten-like mewls of pleasure.   
    
“Oh, well we can go on an actual proper date then,” Zayn says, closing his eyes. “But not today, eh? Sort of just want to stay here for now. Maybe go to sleep.”   
    
“‘Course, love,” Liam replies fondly, placing a soft kiss to the top of Zayn’s head. “Go to sleep.”   
    
It turns out that Liam’s idea of a good first date is going ice skating. He drags a very reluctant Zayn to the little rink downtown one Saturday night, absolutely bursting with excitement.   
    
“ _Leeyum_ ,” Zayn complains, “can’t we do something else? Like dinner. Or a movie. Or anything else, really.”   
    
Zayn’s never been ice skating before, and, well, he’s not exactly the most coordinated person ever. He’s not particularly looking forward to spending most of night falling onto his bum.   
    
“We do those things all the time,” Liam says, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Zaynie, it’ll be fun. I promise.”   
    
Honestly, it’s a true test to how much Zayn really likes Liam (and how good Liam is at using his mouth and tongue) that Zayn finds himself lacing up a pair of skates and heading onto the ice.   
    
Liam gets on first, sliding effortlessly onto the rink and turning with a grin as he waits for Zayn to follow. Zayn takes a deep breath, and after letting a few younger kids skate past him, he finally takes his first step.   
    
He makes it about two inches before his bum makes contact with the cold, hard ice. A few kids skate past him, giving him odd looks, and Liam makes his way over, giggling softly.   
    
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Zayn glares, trying to get up to no avail. He holds his arms out finally and Liam tugs at them with a roll of his eyes, lifting him easily.   
    
“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Liam says, grabbing Zayn’s hand. Liam’s grip is warm and familiar and eases some of the tension that Zayn was feeling in his stomach after his fall. “You’ve just got to get the hang of it.”   
    
Liam’s hand stays wrapped around Zayn’s the whole night, helping to guide him on the ice and making sure he stays relatively upright. It doesn’t always work, of course, and Zayn finds himself falling more often than not, sometimes taking Liam down with him, but he has to admit, it’s actually sort of fun. Sometimes Liam skates backwards, both of his hands in Zayn’s, pulling him along and bringing him in until they’re pressed flush together. He gives Zayn encouraging kisses to the tip of his cold nose and his chapped lips and his cheeks and by the end of the night, Zayn’s sort of kind of getting the hang of.   
    
Even when Zayn’s capable of navigating the ice on his own, Liam’s hand never leaves his. It’s a constant comfort and Zayn marvels, not for the first time, at just how right it feels to have his fingers tangled with Liam’s.   
    
They don’t part until they’re off the ice, unlacing their skates as the rink is closing around them. Even then, Liam’s hand is back in his the minute they’ve returned the skates and are heading out the door.   
    
“See, I told you it’d be fun, right?” Liam asks as they walk out, swinging their hands between them.   
    
“Yeah, it was great,” Zayn smiles, stopping the swinging motion to bring Liam’s knuckles up to his lips and kiss them softly. Liam beams back at him, eyes twinkling under the bright lights of the car park.   
    
Zayn wishes that he could stand there forever, kissing Liam against the door of his beat-up car with both of their hands clasped tightly together like neither of them ever want to let go.   
    
**03.**   
    
The day they get to the bungalow, it starts raining. It rains and it rains and it rains and it looks like there’s not much chance of it letting up anytime soon.   
    
Zayn doesn’t really mind the rain. He likes cozying up to Liam on the couch with a book open on his lap as he listens to the soft pitter patter of the fat drops of water hitting against the windows. He like cuddling with his boys as they watch movies and he likes arguing with Niall over the ever-confusing rules of Monopoly.   
    
Louis’ a different story however. He hates being cooped up inside, has been looking forward to Easter hols for weeks now because he wanted to spend some time in the lake and in the woods and sleeping under the stars in his sleeping bag.   
    
“We have the worst luck,” Louis moans on the third day at the bungalow. The rain is still going strong and every once in awhile there’s a flash of lightning or a clap of thunder that makes Zayn flinch. The lights flicker occasionally, Zayn’s chest tightening a bit every time they do.   
    
Harry and Niall are lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, curled up like a couple of kittens under a blanket. Zayn’s spread on the couch, leaning against the armrest with his feet in Liam’s lap as he reads a comic. The telly is turned down low, no one really paying much attention to it except Liam.   
    
“That’s not true,” Harry frowns, voice low and slow with his comfort, “it’s been a good couple of days in m’opinion. Very relaxing.”   
    
“I didn’t want a relaxing couple of days,” Louis scoffs, “we could’ve done this at home. We _do_ do this at home.”   
    
Niall giggles softly, whispering something in Harry’s ear that makes him bark out a laugh as well.   
    
“Please tell me you two idiots aren’t laughing because Louis said doodoo,” Zayn says, not looking up from the colored panels of his comic.   
    
The two of them giggle more openly and Zayn rolls his eyes, knowing that Louis’ probably doing the same. Liam lets out his own soft giggles and Zayn can just picture the fondness in his eyes as he watches Niall and Harry rolling around like the children they still are.   
    
“If you two tits are gonna just cuddle and laugh about poo jokes, I’m just gonna to bed,” Louis says and Zayn looks up briefly to watch him get off the plush arm chair he was sitting in.   
    
“Nooo, don’t go, Lou,” Harry moans, making grabby hands towards Louis. “It’s only ten o’clock. We can pop in a film or something.”   
    
“No, really, it’s okay,” Louis sighs dramatically. “You four just sit here on your own and be all coupley. Leave me to die alone in my bedroom. Alone. With no one by my side.”   
    
There’s no real heat behind Louis’ words, especially because Zayn’s sure that he’s just going to call Eleanor as soon as the door closes behind him.   
    
Louis’ making his way to his room, but before he gets very far, there’s a bright flash of lightning that makes Zayn jump up and move closer to Liam, followed by a loud boom of thunder that seems to reverberate around the room. The wind is blowing violently, the rain lashing against the windows in a way that makes Zayn curl his fingers around the soft fabric of Liam’s shirt nervously. Liam wraps an arm around his shoulders, places a soft kiss to his hairline, but the comforting gestures don’t really work.   
    
Zayn hates thunderstorms, hates them more than he hates heights and open bodies of water and bloody haunted houses (he still hasn’t forgiven Louis for that - he had nightmares for weeks, even with Liam’s hand wrapped tight in his while they walked around the attractions). Those things are all avoidable, but thunderstorms he can’t get away from. He hates the noise and the lightning and just being stuck in a situation that he can’t do anything about.   
    
Another streak of lightning illuminates the sky and with the following crash of thunder, the lights in the bungalow shut down completely. The flames from the fireplace bathe the room in a rich yellow glow, but the light doesn’t extend very far.   
    
“Shit,” Louis curses. “See, I told you, Haz. We have some seriously piss poor luck.”   
    
“Yeah, okay,” Harry intones. “This may be a little bad.”   
    
Zayn lets a little whine in agreement, snuggling closer to Liam, wrapping his arms around his middle and clutching on like the darkness will engulf him if he doesn’t. He can feel his heart beating fast in his chest, his breath coming out a bit more shallow than before. This is so not good.   
    
“Do ya have a generator or somethin’?” Niall asks softly, and Zayn can hear him shuffling around on the floor.   
    
“You okay, babe?” Liam asks, rubbing his hand soothingly against Zayn’s back. Zayn’s so embarrassed. He feels like he’s acting like some stupid child. It’s almost enough to make him laugh. What kind of eighteen year old is afraid of things like thunderstorms or the dark?   
    
Zayn’s about to nod, try to make it seem like he’s fine, but the next clap of thunder is so loud that it rattles his bones, makes him jump until he’s practically crawling into Liam’s lap. “I hate thunderstorms.”   
    
The rain’s coming down in sheets, pounding against the glass windows and Zayn can make out the sounds of the wind howling ferociously through it all. Harry, Niall, and Louis are whispering amongst themselves while Liam runs a comforting hand through Zayn’s hair to help calm him down.   
    
It sort of helps too, having Liam here with him. Things are a lot easier when there’s a warm, familiar body at his side. Liam’s arms feel strong and protective around his thin frame, and the sweet scent of his shampoo makes Zayn feel at home. Things are even easier when Liam finally pulls him completely into his lap. He takes one of Zayn’s hands into his own, kissing each of his knuckles and the center of his palm softly before linking their fingers together.   
    
The places where Liam’s lips touch feel warm and Zayn breathes just a little easier when their hands are clasped tightly together. It makes him feel closer to Liam, like they’re connected in more ways than one. Whenever there’s even a slight rumble of thunder outside, Zayn squeezes Liam’s hand tightly, and it’s comforting to feel him squeeze back.   
    
“Well, looks like we’ll just have to go without electricity tonight, lads,” Louis decides, looking out the window. “This weather’s much too shit to go out in to look for a generator that we’re not even sure exists.”   
    
“It’s not my fault,” Harry pouts, “the power’s never gone out before.”   
    
“No one’s blaming you, babe,” Niall laughs, kissing Harry’s cheek sloppily and making him giggle.   
    
“Are you okay, Zayn?” Louis asks, suddenly, startling Zayn a little. He was hoping no one would notice that he was in a right state over a bit rain.   
    
“Um, yeah, I just really hate thunderstorms,” Zayn mumbles, and Liam pulls him even closer protectively like he’s daring Louis to take make some snide comment.   
    
Louis just shrugs instead, plopping down on the couch and pulling Zayn into him without warning. Louis’ not as strong as Liam, but he’s got some muscle and Zayn falls into him easily. He’s just as warm and soft and familiar as Liam is. “Well who doesn’t? They’re pretty damn terrifying.”   
    
“Heeey, I wanna join on this cuddle fest,” Harry whines, and suddenly Zayn’s being pushed down on the couch, Harry and Louis’ weight both pressing down on him.   
    
“Get your fat arses off of me,” Zayn laughs, pressing on Louis’ chest with no avail.   
    
“Not a chance, Malik,” Louis says, snuggling his nose into the crook of Zayn’s neck. “‘M not going anywhere.”   
    
Liam’s still sitting up, Zayn half on top of him, but he goes down to when Niall somehow squeezes onto the couch too, asking, “Room for one more?”   
    
They’re a mess of limbs on the couch, all lying on top of each other for a group snuggle that’s making it hard for Zayn to breathe because he’s at the very bottom of it all. It calms Zayn down for a while though, at least until there’s another rumble of thunder and Zayn swears the walls of the bungalow start shaking.   
    
“Could we maybe all kip here tonight?” Zayn asks quietly.   
    
“On the couch?” Louis asks. “Prolly not, to be honest. Don’t think I could sleep with Niall’s crotch in my face all night.”   
    
“Don’t really know why you’re complaining,” Harry mumbles and everyone’s ensuing giggles make the couch shake.   
    
After their laughter fades, Liam says, “We could make a bed on the floor if you want?”   
    
“That’d be nice, yeah.”   
    
“So who’s gonna be the first to get up?” Harry asks, wiggling around and making himself more comfortable. “I’d rather just stay like this.”   
    
In the end, Harry is the first to get up because it turns out he’s on top. They all untangle from one another and head into their rooms, collecting pillows and sheets and blankets that eventually turn into a kind of nest on the floor of the sitting room.   
    
The storm is still raging on when they all lay down next to each other, Liam pressing warm against Zayn’s back and Louis tucked neatly against his chest. Zayn feels relaxed though with his boys all around him and he can almost ignore the occasional lightning and thunder outside.   
    
Liam kisses the back of Zayn’s neck softly when they’re all settled in, reaching over and grasping tightly on his hands. Their fingers vine together, and Zayn thinks that he can do this. Thinks he can make it through the night as long as Liam’s hand has a strong grip on his warm and the others are sleeping peacefully beside him.   
    
**04.**   
    
They go back to the bungalow after the end of the school year, once they’re done with final exams and graduation and are ready to leave all their memories of secondary school and sixth form behind. The weather is absolutely gorgeous this time, and Louis finally gets the vacation he was wishing for.   
    
A few weeks after returning from the bungalow, Zayn gets a call from his sister, Doniya. She asks him to spend a couple days up at her place, to come see the flat she’s renting and meet her boyfriend and all her new friends from university.   
    
“You should bring Liam, by the way,” she mentions after Zayn’s agreed to come, “he’ll absolutely love London.”   
    
It turns out that Zayn loves London more than Liam ever could, and he’s so glad that him and Louis have chosen to go to school there next fall. He loves the noise and the excitement and all the different people and all the things to do. While they’re there, Zayn grabs Liam’s hand and drags him through the streets, taking him to all the touristy places as well as some of the more obscure sites that Doniya’s friends recommend. All he wants is to explore all of London, learn every nook and cranny with Liam at his side.   
    
Doniya’s friends are amazing. They’re lively and fun and have great stories to tell about their first year of uni that has Zayn itching to start school himself. Liam loves them too, melts into them and Doniya easily like he’s just part of the family.   
    
Doniya’s boyfriend, however, is a whole different story. To be blunt, Zayn thinks he’s a total arse.   
    
Kevin’s one of those tortured artist types. That’s nothing new for Zayn, nothing he can’t deal with after spending a significant time in the art room. It’s his pretentious attitude though that gets to Zayn, his holier-than-thou mannerisms. It’s hard for Zayn to sit there as he talks down to Doniya and her friends like they’re not worth the dirt under his ugly, hundred quid shoes.   
    
Zayn tells Doniya as much, tries to convince her that Kevin’s shit and definitely not worth her time, but she refuses to listen. She looks at him with stars in her eyes as he does nothing more useful than lounge in front of the telly and “refuel his creative energy”.   
    
Dinners with him are painfully tense and awkward. Zayn sits at the table, giving short answers and trying to keep his temper under wraps as Kevin goes on and on about society’s declining appreciation for the arts. Liam stays mostly quiet, answering politely when spoken to and trying to keep Zayn calm with a hand rubbing soothing circles into his thigh.   
    
The third night there, Kevin asks, “So, Zayn. What do you want to do with your life?”   
    
“Erm, I’m going to uni to study English education next year,” Zayn says after swallowing a bite of Doniya’s delicious home-cooked meal.   
    
Kevin rolls his eyes like he can’t believe Zayn could be as daft as to not understand his question. “Yeah, that’s what you want to _be_ but what do you want to _do_? Surely you don’t want to spend your entire life teaching a bunch of snot-nosed kids about a subject that barely matters and that they certainly don’t care about.”   
    
Zayn’s hand tightens around his fork, knuckles turning white as he breathes in and out through his nose slowly. Liam’s hand is on him immediately, trying to calm him down because he knows that this is a sensitive topic for him, one that gets him riled up even when Louis or Niall tease him about it jokingly. There’s a million things rushing through his head, arguments he’s used to convince people of the importance of the written word and literature’s importance in society and history and just to himself. He pushes them back though, wanting to end this conversation quickly.   
    
“Well, I’ve always wanted to write my own graphic novel. Try to put my love of English and art together,” Zayn answers with shrug after Kevin’s been staring at him for a while, eyebrow quirked inquiringly. Zayn’s surprised at how steady his voice comes out.   
    
“Comics can hardly be considered art,” Kevin scoffs, and Zayn feels the muscles in his jaw tighten significantly, “that’s just as bad as calling literature an art.”   
    
Doniya’s quiet through the whole affair, eyes downcast as she pushes food around her plate wordlessly. Liam grabs Zayn’s free hand though, tangles their fingers together and squeezes softly before he says, “And why not? Comics are certainly an artform. I’d like to see you make one. I don’t think you understand the time and dedication that goes into putting one together. Much more than the ruddy art I’ve seen in your ‘studio’.”   
    
Zayn’s eyes widen at the edge in Liam’s voice, but it’s nothing compared to the way Kevin’s look in danger of popping out of his face. Liam keeps calm though, his face neutral despite the obvious contempt in his words. He’s squeezing firmly on Zayn’s hand, and it helps to keep Zayn grounded too. Keeps his heart rate down and his breathing steady because Liam is there for him.   
    
“Excuse me, and what do you know about art?” Kevin hisses, brandishing his fork threateningly in Liam’s direction.   
    
“A hell of a lot more than you do apparently,” Liam shrugs, rubbing soothing circles with the pad of his thumb over Zayn’s knuckles when he tenses at Kevin’s gestures.   
    
Zayn’s always marveled at Liam’s ability to keep calm in situations like this. Sure, Liam’s got a bit of a temper too, but it takes so much more to push him past his limit. Zayn feels like he’s always teetering on edge, ready to lash out at any moment except in ones like now when Liam’s hand is warm and steady in his own, weighing down his anger like an anchor.   
    
And really, that’s what Liam is, Zayn’s anchor. Keeps him from floating off in his own thoughts and fears and angers. Whenever Zayn needs him, Liam’s there with a gentle touch, a soothing gesture that feels just _right_.   
    
“That’s enough boys,” Doniya finally says, sending a glare in Kevin’s direction when he opens his mouth to retaliate. “Can we please just try to enjoy this dinner?”   
    
Kevin says nothing, returns to his food with a nonsensical grumble. Liam shoots a small grin at Zayn, brings their interconnected hands up to his lips and kisses Zayn’s knuckles softly when no one’s looking. The gesture is sweet and familiar and it fills Zayn with an indescribable comfort. They keep their hands locked firmly in place for the rest of the meal.   
    
**+.01**   
    
The end of summer comes too quickly. The months blur into each other, and by the end, all Zayn can remember is days at the Bungalow and sharing lazy kisses with Liam by the lake and impromptu trips to the beach where he sits on the hot sand and sketches his boys splashing in the sea.   
    
Niall’s the first to leave. He packs his bags and gets on a plane back to Ireland where he’s going to be spending the next four years of his life, participating in some amazing music program he’s been excited about since the day he got his acceptance letter in the mail.   
    
Harry’s a mess for weeks, moody and insufferable until the day of Niall’s flight. He cries unashamedly at the airport, face buried in Niall’s shoulder, begging him not to go. Niall just chuckles wetly, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes. He wipes Harry’s cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and kisses him softly, gently, promising that he loves Harry, and that no amount of distance can change that.   
    
Louis breaks at that, launches himself at Niall and Harry and Zayn and Liam follow immediately, the five of them stuck in a tangle of arms and tears and whispers of, “I love you.”   
    
Liam and Harry are staying local, so Zayn and Louis are next to leave. The last week of August, they shove their things into the back of Louis’ old car and pray that it will take them all the way to London without breaking down in the middle of the road.   
    
Harry wraps them all in his long arms and they stand there for a minute, breathing deeply and Zayn holds back tears as he feels Liam pressed flushed against him. He’s itching to get out there, has been for ages, but at this moment he wants nothing more than to be here, wrapped up in Liam’s arms, Harry’s familiar aftershave wafting into his nose and Louis’ pointy elbows poking him the ribs.   
    
 When Harry and Louis separate to say their own goodbyes, Liam’s still there, clinging onto Zayn like he never wants to let go. Zayn hugs back, breathes in the familiar scent that is Liam and revels, not for the first time, how right it feels to be pressed together like this.   
    
“Is it too late to ask you not to go?” Liam murmurs into Zayn’s neck, voice too small to be completely joking. Zayn’s skin is a bit damp from where a few of Liam’s tears have slipped out and it makes him _hurt_ everywhere.   
    
“A bit, yeah,” Zayn chokes out, trying to keep his voice light as he rubs slow circles into Liam’s back and places a soft kiss to the top of his head.   
    
It’s hard seeing Liam like this, small and sad and on the brink of losing it. Zayn feels his chest tighten and his breathing stall and he just wants to kiss Liam forever and make sure he never feels like this again. Liam doesn’t deserve to feel like this, not ever.   
    
He pulls back a little so he can see Liam’s face. His glassy brown eyes and his pink-tinged nose and cheeks and plush lips trying to form a smile. There are teardrops threatening to fall from the edge of his thick eyelashes, and Zayn wipes them away before reaches down and grabbing Liam’s hand.   
    
For one of the first times, it’s Zayn squeezing Liam’s hand, bringing his knuckles up and pressing them gently to his lips, trying to make the gesture as reassuring and comforting as physically possible. He needs Liam to know that things are okay, that they’re going to continue being okay. He doesn’t know what else to do other than press his lips against the soft skin of Liam’s fingertips and the center of his palm.   
    
“We’ve been through worse, babe,” Zayn smiles, squeezing Liam’s hands as he tangles their fingers together. He remembers all the times Liam’s done this for him, made him feel safe and warm and comfortable just by pressing his hands together, and he hopes he’s doing the same for Liam. “It’s just uni. Not nearly enough to tear us apart.”   
    
“Doesn’t make it any less hard,” Liam chuckles, but he squeezes back before bringing Zayn in his arms again.   
    
One of Zayn’s hands is still pressed firmly in Liam’s own as they meet together for a sloppy kiss, the other winding into the soft fabric of Liam’s shirt. Zayn’s grip tightens on both, his lips pressing almost urgently against Liam’s as Liam’s tongue darts into his mouth and winds around his own the same way their fingers are winded together.   
    
Liam pulls away first, breathing hard when he presses their foreheads together. “You keep me grounded, Zayn. What am I going to do without you?”   
    
Zayn almost laughs at the irony of it all, because Liam’s always the one who’s grounded _him_. He’s spent the last few weeks trying to figure out what he’s going to do without Liam because he can’t imagine how everything’s going to be alright without him. It’s weird to think that Liam might need him the same way because he’s always been the strong one.   
    
It’s Zayn’s turn to be there for Liam though, to hold him up and reassure him and make him promises that he intends to keep forever. He squeezes Liam’s hand again, the gesturing pressing him that much closer to Liam, pushing him further into everything.   
    
“Don’t worry about anything, ‘kay? I promise, Li, no matter what, I’ll always be here for you. You keep me grounded too. Always have and always will. That’s never going to change.” 


End file.
